


Butter on a Hot Grill

by compo67



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Anal Sex, Biting, Bottom Jared, Cravings, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Food Porn, Kitchen Sex, M/M, Male Lactation, Marking, Mpreg, Nipple Play, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Kink, Pregnant Sex, Self-Lubrication, Smut, Top Jensen, labor day fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 09:28:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7971766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/compo67/pseuds/compo67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The selection of Todd’s Diner off of Route 53 was even more of an odd choice considering that Jared and his date both worked at a high-end steakhouse where they served lobsters and porterhouse steaks every night. But ever since Jared noticed the somewhat shy, green-eyed cook working the line night after night, he had been determined to get a date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Butter on a Hot Grill

Of all the places to have a first date, Jared hadn’t expected a truck stop diner.

It seemed like an incredibly odd choice. The menus might have been printed on white pages sometime back in the late sixties and the booths might have once been a bright yellow. And their waitress, Lena, might have once smiled back then. 

The selection of Todd’s Diner off of Route 53 was even more of an odd choice considering that Jared and his date both worked at a high-end steakhouse where they served lobsters and porterhouse steaks every night. But ever since Jared noticed the somewhat shy, green-eyed cook working the line night after night, he had been determined to get a date. 

Cooks and servers have very little time together during open hours. Even when Jared would be in the back of house, his time was spent multitasking and juggling orders for tables, or sometimes prepping and plating desserts. 

But one fortuitous night, a potential disaster turned into something awesome. 

In a state of drowsiness and misery, Jared messed up his tickets--he’d taken a Benadryl at the start of his shift to combat allergies from his roommate’s adorable cat. He accidentally sent a prime rib to table 13 instead of table 9, which had ordered first. He needed a prime rib stat. 

Jensen saved him. 

That prime rib was beautiful. The table was delighted. Jared split the $50 tip with Jensen. And after that, every night after close, Jared volunteered to clean up with the cooks. Jensen smiled more often. He talked a little louder. He shared his love of cooking, made Jared dinner on shift more than once, and always had his tickets done perfectly and in order. 

So Jared was not about to say no to their first date, even if Jensen had suggested underwater basket weaving in a shark cage. 

Settled into their slightly sunken booths, Jared and Jensen bonded over the best cheeseburgers, onion rings, and chocolate milkshakes ever created. Crafted by ancient gods, their food was almost illegal. 

And so, at the risk of their cholesterol levels, one date at Todd’s became two, then became three, then four, and so forth and so forth, until Jared began to say hi to regular truckers and give marriage advice to Lena.

The last time Jared and Jensen were at Todd’s was for their one and a half year anniversary, and a booth no longer suited them. Jared couldn’t fit in one. Being seven months pregnant will do that. And since onion rings and milkshakes give Jared heartburn something fierce, he’s stayed away from temptation. 

“You keep eating those, I’m not gonna feel sorry for you later,” Jensen rumbles, offering a hand to Jared on the couch. “I thought I hid those.”

Jared defensively hugs his bag of potato chips to his belly. “You hid my bag of... ooph.. sour cream chips.” Sitting and standing up have been challenges for the past three months, but especially in the past two weeks. “These,” Jared huffs, finally standing, “are chicken and waffle chips.”

Jensen makes a face, one Jared hopes their baby will inherit. “Those are sins against nature.”

“I wouldn’t have to eat them if you hadn’t hidden the sour cream ones.”

“I got a whole fridge of healthy, nutritious food and all you want to eat is chips.” 

“Yep.”

“How you feeling?” With care, Jensen places his hand on the small of Jared’s back. Familiar and warm, his fingers press against the billowy tank top Jared chose to wear this morning. Jared feels the baby move in response to the touch, as if it knows who exactly is doing the touching. 

“Huge,” Jared murmurs. “Uncomfortable. Hungry.”

“We got two hours before folks start showing up.” Jensen opted to wear a black t-shirt today, paired with his favorite pair of denim cargo shorts. He cuts a handsome, attractive sight no matter what he puts on, even his chef’s coat. Well. Especially his chef’s coat. In the year and a half since their first date, Jensen moved up the line by working his ass off--and communicating more openly with management about improvements in the kitchen. Jared encouraged in and helped him with those suggestions. The restaurant ran smoother, the line was more efficient, and servers were under less pressure.

They are by no means wealthy, but what Jensen makes as junior sous chef, combined with what Jared saved up from tips in the past year, allowed Jared to stop working five months into his pregnancy. 

However, after four months of not working, Jared is more than ready for a change in pace to his life. 

Jared stretches, and willingly passes over the bag of chips to Jensen. He smooths his right hand over the barely covered swell of his middle. Two months ago, his appetite was normal. Six months ago, he could barely eat anything with flavor or a smell to it. Now, with the baby being a week and a half late, he’s ravenous all the time. Cravings have waited until now to hit with full force, making him feel like even more of a typical pregnant person. 

“I want a bacon cheeseburger,” Jared sighs and pouts. “Medium rare, with extra cheese, extra onions, and chipotle mayo.” 

Jensen smiles and rolls his eyes. He guides Jared over to the kitchen. “Ah, a recipe for disaster if I ever heard one. How about a grilled cheese sandwich before the party?”

“Only if grilled cheese sandwiches now have a big hunk of ground beef in ‘em, medium rare, with extra cheese, extra onions, chipotle mayo, and bacon jam.”

“Bacon and bacon jam?”

“I’m really hungry.”

“You’ll have heartburn for days.” Jensen sits Jared down on a bar stool near the island in the center of the kitchen. He stands and places his hands on Jared’s belly--feeling the weight and size of it. Looking down, Jensen rubs his hands in wide circles, pausing only when he feels a kick. 

“We’re hungry,” Jared whines. “If I have heartburn later, I can just drink some Pepto.” 

“Or... how about you listen to me and stick with the grilled cheese?” 

“Party pooper.”

“You’re gonna eat a burger when people get here.”

“What if I can’t wait that long?”

“I have faith in you.” In his calm, collected voice, Jensen adds, “Both of you.” 

Jensen’s hands have always felt good on Jared’s belly. They have soothed both Jared and their baby. With less and less room to move, the baby hasn’t been as active lately, except, to Jared’s unending joy, whenever it hears or feels Jensen near. 

Eyes fluttering from the attention, Jared purrs his response. “Oh, Jen, that feels so good.” 

Nothing distracts Jared from food like physical contact from Jensen. 

Leaning in, Jensen presses a chaste kiss against Jared’s mouth. It’s achingly sweet the way their lips meet. It inspires flashes of hopes for the same green eyes and freckles reproduced. 

The kiss transforms into something more heated, more desperate. 

Potato chips and heartburn forgotten, their hands wander. Jared moans the second Jensen kisses him--with his hands framing Jared’s jaw, drawing him in for a deep, rough kiss. Jensen’s hands then alternate between rubbing Jared’s belly and teasing Jared’s sensitive chest. Heat builds and spreads through them both. Close isn’t close enough. 

Jared might as well be butter on a hot grill. 

He slides off the stool with more balance and elegance he thought he’d have, and basks in Jensen’s ardent attention. Head tossed back, Jared moans when Jensen’s fingers circle his nipples, pinch and roll them, and cause both to release a sudden, warm spurt of milk. The relief from pressure in his chest is addictive, as is the feel sight of Jensen lapping up creamy, thick rivers. With Jared’s tank top lifted up, held over his chest, Jensen’s tongue flickers over Jared’s right nipple. Pink, plush lips seal over the leaking, sensitive peak. 

Jensen pinches Jared’s left nipple, making Jared squirt a stream of milk out onto his belly. Jared digs his fingertips into Jensen’s shoulders and pushes his belly out, making it larger, rounder, heavier than before. He shivers at the sight before him--Jensen and all. 

Line cook. Server. 

That’s how they started. 

Kissing Jared once, twice, three more times, Jensen gauges Jared’s appetite. He’s as needy as he was with cravings. And just like cooking the perfect steak, Jensen knows what to do next. 

Freckled hands grope Jared’s ass through simple, threadbare shorts. Fingers then graze over the heavy underside of Jared’s round stomach. Kisses never stop. Jared breathes in rapid, panting breaths. He allows Jensen to do as he will: turning Jared around to have his hands flat on the bar stool, legs spread, and the bulge of his belly visible through the vee of his legs. 

Exposed--his shorts a thing of the past--Jared feasts on Jensen’s gentle worship of his body. 

He never thought he’d be here with Jensen, in their own apartment, having sex a few hours before their Labor Day party with friends, Jared himself over nine months pregnant with their first baby. 

Jensen lines their hips up. 

He teases with the bloated, flushed tip of his cock smoothing over and bumping against Jared’s tight, pink hole. Jared cries out the moment Jensen ceases teasing. The head pushes in, slowly, eased inside by the generous amount of slick Jared produces. He shudders and moans as his body releases another squelch of slick, dripping down Jensen’s cock, slicking it up. 

The world continues its motion. 

No time to waste, Jensen slides into Jared, meeting with resistance and intense heat. Another pump of slick... 

Jensen reaches around to Jared’s chest and flickers his thumb over Jared’s right nipple. Jared’s entire body responds to that. A surge of slick coats Jensen’s cock, and thighs. Jensen answers. He slides into Jared in one, swift thrust. 

“Fuuuck,” Jared gasps, his hands and forearms trembling to keep himself held up. “Oh, fuuuck yes.” His belly quakes every time he moves or breathes particularly hard. It swings underneath him, a heavy weight, caressed by Jensen’s left hand. 

Opened up, Jared focuses. He feels so full, so split open from Jensen’s cock. He can feel every twitch, every swell, every burst of pre-come. 

This is better than the butter glaze over Jensen brushes over every steak on the grill. This is better than cheesecake, than chop suey, than strawberries, than a big burger cooked medium well. 

Jensen fucks Jared hard and fast. 

He makes Jared scream, shout, and beg for more. Harder. Faster. “Right there!” Jared cries out, his belly heavy and hips aching. “Oh god, yes, yes, yes--there! Oh fuck! Jensen! There, there, there, pleasepleaseplease...!” 

It’s no news to Jared that Jensen has a big cock and knows exactly how to use it. It’s this cock that got him pregnant. It’s this cock that filled him with come nine months ago and gave him this. Every rough thrust forward creates a squelching sound. Slick runs down Jared’s thighs. He pushes his hips back, meeting Jensen thrust for thrust, Their movements and rhythm become more and more demanding. Chest to back, Jensen moves both of his hands to the front of Jared’s belly. He holds onto the widest, roundest part of Jared, and starts to fuck Jared the way he commands a grill during the dinner rush.

The final straw is Jensen sinking his teeth into the meat of Jared’s shoulder. 

He leaves one perfectly shaped bruise.

Jared comes hard on Jensen’s cock, Jensen comes hard from Jared coming hard. He spills into Jared, filling him up, burying his cock as deep as possible. 

Come drenches Jensen’s cock and the bar stool seat. 

Come drips down Jared’s thighs and Jensen hasn’t pulled out yet.

It’s a long while before either of them fully catches their breaths. Who would have known that the shy line cook from work would end up taking him to an all-night truck stop diner and try one of Todd’s All-American burgers.

They are the best mess. 

Jensen licks over the mark on Jared’s shoulder and pulls out slowly, giving Jared time to adjust. Jared can’t help but laugh at the squelch and pop sound created when Jensen finally eases out. The best part of being pregnant is the lack of condoms and the mess it makes. Jared doesn’t mind a mess. 

Except for messes three hours later, that he first assumes is heartburn, or maybe gas, or maybe both. Regulars from Todd’s stop by for their cookout. Lena brings a Jello mold worthy of Michelin stars. Jared takes the first bite of his medium-well burger with extra cheese, extra pickles, extra onions, and extra bacon. And then the real mess starts. 

His water breaks on the patio. 

Jensen grabs Jared a plate and calls the hospital. 

He promises Jared cheeseburgers, onion rings, and chocolate milkshakes when they get back.

 

**Author's Note:**

> flexing my porn muscles! 
> 
> thank you to folks on tumblr for prompting this labor day fic! i'm a bit late (lol) but better than never, right? i went literal with this one. <3
> 
> comments are love!


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